Chapter Twenty-Four
L ogan stirred, reluctantly opening his eyes as dappled rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains. Nestled against him, Amelia sighed, her lush hair tumbling over his uninjured shoulder as she shimmied closer. God above, the feel of her soft curves pressed to his body might’ve tempted a dead man to life.
I will never get enough of ye.
The words he’d spoken the night before had been a confession from the heart. For as long as he lived, he would never tire of her. He knew that truth without a trace of doubt. Her body was that of a goddess come to life, damned near irresistible. But there was more. So much more. Her clever mind and quick wit stirred his interest as deeply as her beauty. For years, he’d vowed to never again involve his heart. He had sought out pleasure in a woman’s arms, but little else.
Amelia’s tenderness had dismantled the barriers he’d erected. Her vibrant spirit had torn down shields he never wished to rebuild.
Someday, perhaps all too soon, his time with her might well end. When she was safe—when she could go about her life without a menace shadowing her—she’d likely realize a man like Logan was not for her. Loving Amelia for a lifetime was not in the cards.
But for now, he would hold her and adore her and savor their passion.
And he would not fall in love with her.
He drew his fingertips over the curve of her shoulder, debating whether or not he should kiss her awake.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her drowsy voice soft as a caress.
He brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Good morning, love.”
Propping her head on one elbow, she squinted to see the clock on the bedside table. “My, it’s rather late.”
He threaded his fingers through her softly mussed hair. “I am in no hurry to leave this bed.”
A little vee creased her brow. “I’d planned to rise before dawn, before Mrs. Langford and Mrs. Garrett were up and about. If I move very quickly and very quietly, I might make it to my chamber without arousing suspicion.”
A chuckle escaped him. “Ye can try, but ye’d be wasting yer time. Nosy as she is, Mrs. Langford could’ve spied for the Crown.”
Nervously, she nibbled her lip. “I hadn’t intended to cause a scandal.”
“Those wise ladies will not be shocked.” Unable to get his fill of her beauty, Logan traced the curve of her face. “Truth be told, Mrs. Langford could see I was drawn to ye from the start. She said as much, cheeky old soul that she is.”
“They will not be taken aback?”
He slowly shook his head. “Those women have lived. And they’ve loved.”
Amelia sat up and tugged the bedsheet over her rounded bosom. Dipping her head, she kissed him softly. “If I’m not careful, I will develop a taste for spending nights in your bed.”
“My sweet Amelia, it will be my pleasure to hold ye, night after night.”
A hint of a frown crossed her features. “I’ve no doubt of that.”
“What troubles ye?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly.
Too quickly.
“Ye have regrets?”
“No.”
Seeing the uncertainty in her eyes, he caressed her cheek as he searched for the right words. “What we did was natural, my sweet. It was right.”
Her nod seemed uncertain. “In my heart, I know that truth. But I’ve never before felt so free in a man’s arms.”
He brushed a kiss over the bridge of her nose. “That’s a good thing, Amelia.”
A small smile touched her lips. “Your touch drives me to madness. But I know so little about you. I want to learn more. Your family. Your home. Your secrets.”
“My secrets, eh?”
“I still don’t know why you felt a debt to my brother.”
“I’ve told ye the truth. He saved my life. That night, he was forced to kill a man.”
Amelia veiled her gaze with her lashes. “He never spoke a word of this to me.”
An invisible stone the size of his fist tumbled into Logan’s gut. Bloody hell, he’d much rather be kissing her in the morning light than making confessions about a past he wanted desperately to forget. But if Amelia wanted the truth, he would blasted well give it to her.
“Taking a life changes a man,” he said. “Paul would not have wanted to burden ye.”
Amelia’s eyes darkened to a stormy blue. Had she sensed the raw pain behind his words?
“Please, tell me what happened.”
“In those days, I was a blasted fool, always looking for a quick path to line my pockets. I played cards with wealthy fools who got in over their heads. I was good. Too good, in the eyes of the man who wanted me dead.”
“What happened?”
“Paul and I were at a tavern by the sea, as we did in those days. Yer brother fancied one of the singers at the place, a pretty redhead, while I set out to separate some arrogant sot from his coin. Most of the gents took their losses in stride, but one fellow... well, he insisted I’d cheated. I was young and hotheaded, so I hit him. I bloodied his mouth with one punch and marched out of the place. I thought that was the end of it. Until he came at me with a knife.”
Color drained from her cheeks. “Dear God. How brutal.”
“I was on the ground, struggling to fend off the bastard. I’d taken a couple of deep strikes, and I was losing more strength by the moment. The lout wanted me dead.” The memory tightened his chest, and he pulled in an uneven breath. “By the time Paul came upon the scene, I’d nearly lost the fight. But he carried a pistol. That night, he put it to use.”
“Oh, dear,” Amelia said softly. “He had no choice. Paul would not have stood by and watched you die.”
Another stone tumbled into his gut. “If not for my blasted greed, he never would’ve been forced to make that decision.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” Gently, Amelia swept a velvet-smooth fingertip over his cheek. “You could not have known what would happen that night.”
“I was arrogant. Too bloody sure of myself. I never thought about the danger.”
“But now you do.” Warmth flickered in her gaze. “Every time you watch over me.”
“I could not forgive myself if something happened to ye.”
“Because of what Paul did?”
“No, Amelia.” He pressed kisses to her fingertips, one by one. “Because of you.”
Drinking in her gentle smile and the light in her eyes, he wrapped her in his arms and drew her near. Hunger surged through him. With an effort to be gentle, he pulled her against his body. The feel of her canting her hips, bringing her feminine curves even closer to his hard, demanding body, pleased him beyond measure.
“Ye’re so bloody beautiful,” he whispered against her lips.
“Am I now?” Her eyes sparkled with decided interest.
“Ye’re temptation come to life.”
“Do you want me, Logan?”
Was the minx daring to tease him?
He spread his hands over her rounded bottom, bringing her so close, his erection nested against her softness.
“Can ye have any doubt, lass?”
“Not one whit. It might well prove rather scandalous.” Challenge flashed in her gaze. “Making love in the light of day.”
He hiked his brows. “And that concerns ye?”
Her hair shimmered as she shook her head. Her delicious smile made his cock go even harder. “As a matter of fact, I have developed a bit of a taste for scandal.”
“Have ye now?”
“Indeed.” Temptation danced in her lively blue eyes. “I believe I know just the rogue to sate that craving.”
Ah, he’d never get enough of this woman. Not if he lived a thousand lifetimes.
He couldn’t help but grin. “Amelia, ye are a siren.”
“I am your siren,” she whispered, coiling her arms around his neck. “Now, I do have one request.”
“And what might that be?”
“Please, darling.” She nibbled her lip in that fetching way of hers. “Stop talking and kiss me.”
*
Reluctantly leaving the comfort of Logan’s bed, Amelia accompanied him to the breakfast room. Mrs. Garrett’s delicious meal of raspberry scones with clotted cream and cheesy baked eggs was a true treat, quite a departure from the simple soft boiled egg and crumpet she typically made for herself.
“I’m starving this morning,” Finn Caldwell said good-naturedly as he joined them, plate in hand. “It’s a good thing Mrs. Garrett prepares enough food to feed a blasted regiment.”
“Good God,” Logan observed as he took a look at the heaping serving on Finn’s plate.
“A man’s got to eat,” Finn said, slathering butter on a thick slice of warm bread.
“Truer words have seldom been spoken.” Logan reached for a piping hot scone. “I take it ye did not return alone.”
“Actually, I did.”
Logan’s brows hiked. “The dragon refused?”
Finn smiled and shook his head. “To the contrary, Mrs. Johnstone is eager to assist. She insisted on driving that buggy of hers—the spider, or whatever she calls it. She’ll meet us here later.”
“The dragon is a maniac at the reins.” Logan took a bite of his scone.
“Some things do not change.” Finn’s expression turned darker. “I hear you ended up on the wrong end of a knife last night.”
“Ye could say that. But Miss Florence Nightingale here has got me on the mend.” Logan slanted Amelia a gaze that made her cheeks heat.
Finn’s gaze shifted to Amelia, lingering perhaps a moment longer than proper. “I’ll have to remember that if I ever encounter a villain in the night.”
Logan’s eyes gleamed with a blend of humor and possessiveness. “Not bloody likely, ye randy knave.”
“In the event you are injured, I will be the judge as to my ability to tend your wound.” Amelia kept her tone prim yet firm.
Finn flashed a cheeky grin, seeming to enjoy rankling his friend. “I do have a bit of advice for ye, Logan.”
Logan shot him a scowl. “Ye do, eh?”
“Next time, avoid the blade,” Finn said with an air of authority. “Ye’re not a blasted cat. Ye do not have nine lives to yer name. Only one.”